I’m getting old, and every year I ask for just one more Spring.
One more Spring where I can watch the Hazlenut catkins elongate, and then sneeze when they throw off their pollen. One more Spring waiting for the first Osoberry blossoms to open and fill the air with their luscious cat piss and skunk fragrance. One more Spring to catch the first note, sharp and spicy, of Cottonwood sap as it rises up from the earth.
One more Spring following the Trilliums as they rise up and bloom.
One more Spring to see the first Bumblebee emerge from her winter burrow.
One more Spring to watch Hummingbird gather last year’s remaining spiderwebs for her nest.
One more Spring listening for Owl and Eagle as they make love.
One more Spring. Just one more Spring.
